encounters
by something forgotten
Summary: HrD one shot - suck at summaries. Draco and Hermione's hatred takes a new form. Please read and review...


I don't own them, and J.K.Rowling wouldn't let them do this. Please don't sue me!

He would never notice her. She knew it. Never, ever, ever. Who would notice the annoying bookworm, who knew the school rules inside out, but obviously had never known a man? Hermione blushed at that thought. Then chastised herself for blushing. No wonder he'd never notice her. No one ever really did. Well, of course they did. She wasn't invisible. But in terms of…that….Never.

Hermione glanced up from her inner monologue to find her transfiguration teacher giving her an odd look, as Neville answered a question. Damn. Note to self: inner monologues should only be conducted outside class, where it was not expected for her to raise her hand every five seconds. Well, it wasn't her fault if she wanted to get somewhere in life, was it? She remembered Malfoy attacking her for it, for her enthusiasm, "Well Granger, we might as well all give up now, what with your constant opinions. Can't get a word in edgeways."

She'd slapped him. Hard. Something she hadn't done since third year. But this was different, this time it was completely altered. She had not slapped him for noble reasons. No Griffindor loyalty riled up causing her hand to slip through the air with a quick, quiet, lethal swish. No innocent person to equate with the deep, red handprint emerging on the clear, white skin of his cheek. No. This slap was different. Because, for once, he'd actually got to her. Wormed his way past the barriers she'd built over almost seven years of school. And it'd stung.

What's worse was that he'd known it. That inevitable smirk creeping arachnid wanderings across his face as he surveyed her after the quick retreat of a cocktail of emotions, which burst into his eyes at the initial shock. She'd turned away then, and stormed off, clutching her research task close to her chest, her eyes adhered to the dusty grey stone floor of the library, then the corridor, then the common room, before she'd fallen on her bed and lain there for what seemed like hours.

She hadn't seen the sly light of his smirk fade, and his quick glance elsewhere for that flicker of a moment, before his gaze darted back up to her departing silhouette against the light of the librarian's office. Hadn't seen his immediate departure from the ever-present gaggle of Slytherins, or the quick, gasping hitch in his breath as he leaned against the wall of his bedroom. Neither had realised the synchronicity of their actions, as they lay on their backs, looking up at the dark fabric hangings of their four poster beds, the moment playing a continuous stream of image in their minds.

But that had been days ago and Hermione had let it sink down into the bottom of her mind, to lie like coiled serpents along with all the other facts of her life she hated. That Harry would never see her as anything more than a friend. That she was plain, bordering on ugly. That she was an 'intolerable know it all'. That she was seventeen, and no boy had yet expressed the vaguest hint of attraction to her short, slightly chubby form. With a sigh, Hermione Granger reassumed her mask, and the brightness in her eyes returned as her hand waved patterns in the air above her head.

Grey eyes surveyed her from the other side of the room, gaze bearing deliberately undefined weight, as the old witch at the front of the room finally released them to the uncontrollable muddle of teenagers in the corridor, before necessity caused focus upon more mundane aspects of movement. When he looked up again, she'd disappeared.

Hermione rushed through the crowd, weaving through extended limbs and inertial bodies as she headed to the library, her constant refuge from the afternoon hell of the common room. With her head girl privileges, she'd been gifted a room to herself, however due to the blonde haired, Slytherin nature of the corresponding male position, she tended to avoid the study room at all costs, entering and exiting her bedroom through the Griffindor common room. The library was always quiet, cool and an oasis of calm against the riotous school outside. Here she could immerse herself fully in the worlds of knowledge she so adored without distraction, for an annoyingly finite time each day. Dumping her bag beside her table, she climbed the ladder to retrieve her present reading material. Suddenly, the almost silent creak of the door alerted her to the presence of someone else in her retreat, and she tried desperately to descend the ladder before they discovered her.

"Well, well, well. Looky what we have here." Hermione froze, five steps above the ground, one hand carefully balancing a stupendous tome, the other holding herself steady. She knew who this was without looking. The deep, silken voice with so many undertones could surely only belong to one person. She glanced down and flushed. Yes. Of course. Malfoy was standing just below her, looking directly up and, due to the delightfully chauvinistic, old fashioned nature of the Hogwarts uniform, had a direct view of her underpants beneath her mid-thigh length, pleated skirt.

Standing below her, Draco couldn't believe his luck, as he stared up at the Head Girl's white cotton panties. He had followed her for god-knows-what reason, telling himself that it was because he wanted to increase his slight advantage in this chronic battle of wills. In truth, he hadn't had any idea of what he was going to say or do when she actually stopped ducking and weaving through the crowd, and arrived wherever she was going. He should have known it would be the library. It was Granger, for God's sake. And now, looking up at her nicely rounded, scantily clad rear end and reddened face, he was simultaneously incredibly glad, and desperate to conceal the bulge growing ever more prominent in the front of his pants.

Hermione unfroze suddenly, and took the last five steps in a rush; desperate to escape the compromising position she'd somehow found herself in. As her feet touched the stone floor of the library, she spun around and came face to face with Malfoy, who, in trying to deal with his predicament, had not moved. Her sigh of relief caught in her throat and her knuckles whitened, tightening their grip on the massive book.

Malfoy leaned in towards her,

"Find what you were looking for?" Her eyes narrowed,

"Get a good look, did you Malfoy?" Draco leaned in closer, until he could feel her accelerated breaths, hot upon the sensitive skin of his lips,

"A damn good look, thankyou Granger." He purred, and watched a she retreated, leaning back against the ladder, his body instinctively following as he braced himself, an arm on either side of her head. "White suits you."

Hermione eyes flickered from his, and he knew she was searching for some way out. He leaned forward, his lips meeting hers harshly, dominatingly. She pushed back at him, opening her mouth and meeting his tongue with her own. His hands slipped across her form, and he groaned into her mouth as her palms met his chest. They battled, hands hot against roiling bodies, kisses wrought of fire in the back of the quiet, public library. He forced a leg between hers, and she bucked against him, arching her hips so she crushed the hardness pushing into her flesh, and wringing moans from his reddened, kiss swollen mouth. His hands rolled her nipples, pulling and pinching the flesh as she whimpered beneath him. Then suddenly, he stopped. Pulled away and looked at her.

Hermione realised suddenly, as if plunged into a bucket of water, what exactly she'd just been doing. The evidence covered her body – bruises from his hands, her shirt untucked, the first three buttons ajar. This was MALFOY. This was wrong. She slid out from under him and ran, grabbing her bag and slipping through the swinging library door before he had a chance to realise what had happened. And as the cool air of the library met his heated skin, a smirk crawled arachnid wanderings across his face, and something began.

A/N

Um……now I'm nervous…. It's not very good but I did it more as a writing exercise than anything else…so…um…if you could review that'd be amazingly incredibly stupendously unbelievably inestimably wonderful. This is probably going to remain a one-shot ficlet thingo, because I'm a bit too slack to support a full fic. Sorry.


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